True Devotion
by TheMetaisAwoken
Summary: If anyone deserves for their wish to come true, it's the Chosen One. But Hermione could be forced to risk her friendship with Harry in order to spur him on in his quest to destroy the Horcuxes...
1. Tissues & Tears

**AN; Hey, everyone! This won't be a long story, I'll try and cap it at about five chapters. Now, I'm pretty knew to the whole fan fiction thing, so this might not be... you know... _good_. But please keep any and all criticisms constructive, and I'll see you at the bottom.**

**Chapter 1 - Tissues & Tears**

Kneeling down near the divide between grass and canvas, Hermione peeked out through the opening in the tent into the dusk outside. The chilly wind of the winter season caressed her face, messed up her already bushy tangle of hair, and stung her eyes somewhat, causing her to squint a little. She ducked behind the canvas wall of the tent briefly to rub her watering eyes, and then continued to watch the scene outside.

Perched on top of a log outside the tent, staring down at a tattered piece of parchment and with Hermione's wand lying ignored next to him, was Harry Potter. His features were illuminated by the jar of lambent, softly crackling bluebell flames before him. There was a telltale glint of reflected light somewhere near Harry's midsection that, Hermione knew, came from the locket dangling from Harry's neck. The presence of the locket was disturbing – while Harry's messy black hair, overly large clothes and the corners of the parchment he was holding danced in the breeze, the locket hung motionless and unyielding, like a corpse strung up by a noose.

Hermione crept out from her hiding place, treading lightly so she made as little noise as possible. It was only when she was a few feet behind him when she halted, brushing her wild, wind-possessed hair from her face. Over Harry's shoulder, she could see dark blotches on the Marauder's Map where his tears had fallen. He was shivering, Hermione knew, not from the bitter gusts of wind he was being forced to endure, but from the sheer level of emotion he was trying to stifle, augmented by the magic of the Horcrux around his neck.

"Harry?" she said in barely more than a whisper. With the Horcrux present, Hermione knew she had to take things slowly and delicately; the last time they let its dark magic get the better of them, Ron had walked out on them. Hermione felt her heart give a sudden jolt - thinking of Ron was still quite painful.

"… What do you want?" Harry replied after a moment of eerie quiet, the crackle of the bluebell flames the only sound that could be heard. He glared at Hermione over his shoulder; his brilliant green eyes glistened with tears, and there were tracks down his cheeks where his tears had dripped down onto the Map.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked. There was another moment of near silence, during which Harry almost looked like he would hex Hermione with her own wand. Hermione almost wouldn't blame him if he did, as she was invading on his privacy. She couldn't help but feel worried about his recent behavior, however, and she felt as though she needed to act.

Harry then nodded, and Hermione scurried over and sat herself down beside him before he could change his mind. Harry then returned to gazing at the map, completely ignoring Hermione's presence. Hermione watched him, frowning, and saw a tear trickle down the traced tear line on Harry's left cheek, and then splatter over a dot on the Map labeled "Ginny Weasley".

"You really miss her, don't you?" Hermione whispered. Harry didn't seem to react to this, and Hermione sighed, knowing that really, it was a question that didn't need answering. But then, suddenly, Harry spoke, his voice shaking slightly.

"Every night, Hermione… every night I search for her on the map." He sniffed, and paused to wipe his eyes. Hermione fumbled in the bottomless bag around her shoulder for a box of tissues, and passed one to him. He gave a grunt of thanks as he folded the Map up and dropped it next to Hermione's wand. He blew his nose, before tossing the tissue into the jar to be engulfed by the flames inside. "And I always hope," he continued, "that she knows that I'm thinking of her…"

"Harry, you know she loves you!" Hermione replied, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's arm. "And I'm sure she thinks of you every night, too!" Harry gave another loud sniff, and then removed his glasses, exposing his gorgeous green eyes.

"I just sometimes wish she was here with me…" muttered Harry, rubbing the lenses on the hem of his overlarge shirt. Hermione couldn't help but grimace – the shirt had patches of dirt and grime all over it. She rolled her eyes.

"Take that shirt off, you can't go fighting Death Eaters dressed like that…" she demanded, afterwards feeling slightly astonished at how much she sounded like Ron's mum. Harry gave a weak grin, and tugged the old shirt over his messy black hair. The locket landed with a dull thud against his bare chest. Hermione felt a swoop in her stomach, like she had butterflies, and suddenly felt herself wondering why men didn't just walk around topless all the time. She shook her head, trying to block the perverse thought from her head.

"It's getting late, I think I'll go to bed in a bit…" he told the frozen Hermione, looking at the watch he had received for his birthday that year, then standing up and passing the shirt to his companion. He raised his arms over his head and stretched, puffing his chest out. Hermione gave a rapid nod which made her neck hurt afterwards.

"Um, yeah…" she mumbled, "I think I'll wash this first, though. Or, I'll forget, you know." Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"You have an amazing memory, Hermione!" he exclaimed. Hermione paused briefly, as her brilliant mind was currently void of any thought that didn't involve Harry's chest. She shook her head again, as she felt her face become hot.

"Yes, well, um… best to get it done, I suppose!" she replied, trying to avoid looking at Harry. "You never know when we'll be setting out again!" Harry gave her a suspicious look, but seemed to disregard her unusual behavior. He turned around and headed towards the tent.

Hermione was rooted to the spot, though her eyes followed Harry's bottom back into the tent. When he was safely out of view, she glanced from side to side. Gradually, she put Harry's shirt up to her nose, closed her eyes, and breathed in Harry's scent. Then, her eyes opened wide, and she threw the shirt away from her.

"What are you doing, Hermione…?" she whispered to herself. She bit her lip, staring into space for a moment, before hiding her face in her hands.

**AN; Me again! This felt a little bit rushed when I first did it, so I tried to proofread and revise it. Every minor tweak left me wondering if I should have left it, though. Ah well, I know where I'm going with this, at any rate. But it's your opinions that count, people! :3**


	2. Grime & Guilt

**AN; Hey again, everyone! Thanks for the good reviews! This chapter's a little longer than the last one, but it hasn't had as much proofreading, so this could be where I completely mess up. But keep the criticism constructive, please!  
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**Chapter 2 - Grime & Guilt**

Hermione was known for being a thinker. It was a rare occurrence for her to make a decision without first spending time considering the repercussions of her actions and whether there would be any ripples that would affect her companions. Because she did this, she defended herself when other people became upset with her decisions, as she had deduced it to be the best course of action. So right now, Hermione felt very confused indeed.

In an unnaturally impulsive move on her part, due to the excitement of seeing Harry shirtless, Hermione had cemented herself in a most uncomfortable position. Had she just taken a second to hesitate, she could have walked away from that log and left her newborn feelings ignored. But… she'd sniffed Harry's shirt. There was no running away from her emotions now.

"Oh god… oh god… I can't honestly…" Hermione breathed into her hands, then abruptly gave a shuddering sob and flicked her bushy hair back, glaring up at the starry heavens above as tears glistened in her eyes. "Oh god, I can't fancy him, I just can't!"

There was no denying that at some point she would have to return to the tent for shelter, as in the space of a few minutes, the winds had turned bitter and harsh. But how could she face Harry now? Ever since he and Ron had rescued him from that troll, she had loved him as a brother. Ever since, she had seen him as a truly courageous soul, with a compassionate heart and an aura that gave people hope and perseverance. Yet now, after one stupid mistake, she was blinded to all that, because Harry the Sexy Hunk of Sex was blocking it from view.

"Come on, Hermione… just… go see him… you'll change your mind… you'll remember…" she whispered to herself. With abnormal effort, Hermione willed herself to stand up and pick Harry's shirt up from where it lay on the grass a few feet away. The tent seemed so far away in her mind, as right now it was the place she wanted to be least, yet she reached it in less than ten steps.

There he was. Laying on his bed, his arms behind his head and his torso basking in the dancing light from a nearby jar of bluebell flames, was Harry. The locket was still around his neck, glittering in an almost menacing way. Hermione gave a trembling breath to try and compose herself, and then strode through the entrance, holding Harry's discarded shirt in front of her.

"Need anything else doing while I'm out here?" Hermione asked him hastily, staring up at the ceiling to avoid looking at him.

"Yeah, just a couple of things down by the wardrobe," Harry replied, sounding a little indifferent, as though his mind was far away, before he hastily added, "oh, but, um, if you don't mind doing it, I mean."

"No, best to get it done, like I said," Hermione answered, again in a fast voice, before rushing away to the wardrobe to collect the laundry. She loaded her arms with a pair of vile maroon socks, one of Mrs. Weasley's knitted jumpers, and the white button shirt Harry had worn to Bill & Fleur's wedding. Then Hermione saw something that, for the first time that night, made her feel amused, and she gave a low snort of laughter.

"What's my cardi doing here?" Hermione asked, holding the beige cardigan over her head so Harry could see it. Harry made a drawn out 'umm' noise, then remained silent for an awkward moment.

"Must have gotten mixed in with my stuff," Harry eventually replied, sounding a little sheepish. Hermione gave a small smile. She went to leave the tent, but was interrupted by Harry speaking.

"Hermione, I've been thinking…" Harry murmured, "what do you think about what he said the day he left?" Hermione stopped in her tracks. Without him mentioning the name, she knew that he was talking about Ron, but it was still painful for them to mention him properly.

"About us being about as-"

"-close to getting rid of this one," Harry finished for her, pointing at the locket on his chest, "as we are to finding the rest of the Horcruxes, yeah." Hermione remained motionless, still not daring to properly look at Harry.

"What about it?" she asked softly. Harry dithered for a moment before answering.

"What if he was right?"

Hermione's nails clenched the bundle of clothes in her arms and she gritted her teeth. Her hatred for Ron boiled rapidly for having planted such an idea in Harry's mind.

"Don't even think like that," she murmured, lowering her head to gaze at the canvas floor, "just because he abandoned the search..."

"Hermione, I just don't know how long I can go not knowing what's happening to everyone! If anything happened to Ginny… I just couldn't… I need to know she's okay…" he said loudly, thumping the mattress afterwards, apparently having run out of words to express his distress. Hermione felt a sudden twinge of jealousy towards Ginny – would Harry be reacting in a similar way if it was Hermione's fate that remained indefinite?

Hermione chose not to respond to this, as she also could not find words to express how she was feeling. She hurried outside and set the laundry pile down by the log, and snatched up her rejected wand while she was there.

"Let me take the locket, I bet you wouldn't be saying this if it wasn't on!" Hermione ordered, noting that was probably the twentieth time she had said that since they obtained the blasted thing. Harry gave a low mutter of annoyance, before removing the Horcrux and chucking it to her. After a fumble, Hermione caught it, and then left Harry alone in the tent.

Hermione draped the locket around her neck, where it slid down beneath her shirt, resting between her breasts. She grimaced – it felt cold and unwelcome against her skin, not to mention intrusive because of its resting place. Not only that, but it gave off an atmosphere of malevolence that made her feel miserable. Shaking her head and shuddering, she dragged a wooden bucket over to the log and then sat down by it.

"Aguamenti!" Hermione muttered, pointing her wand into the bucket. Within seconds, it was full of pure, clear water. She soaked the socks and the jumper in the water, before pointing her wand at them.

"Scourgify!" Suddenly, bubbles began to form, and the water became soapy. As Hermione scrubbed off the dirt from Harry's clothes, she thought back to what they had just discussed.

If Harry was having second thoughts about continuing the quest for the Horcruxes, than the battle against Voldemort was lost. It seemed Harry's grief over not knowing about Ginny's fate had blinded him to his responsibility. If only there was something that Hermione could do to spur him onwards… then she thought of things that she'd love to do to spur him onwards…

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione murmured, and the clean clothes rose out of the bucket, flapping in the wind. They draped themselves over the log to dry. She then went to throw the button shirt into the bucket, but she stopped herself when she noticed a long hair that was as red as flames caught between the button and the button hole.

"… Ginny…" she whispered to herself. Hermione wondered how Harry would react if he knew she had found a trace that his dearest love (Hermione's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch) had ever even existed. Gently drawing the hair from the button hole, Hermione examined it.

The hair of Harry's beloved. The one who got that wonderful man, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, all to herself. Right now, Hermione would give anything for this to be her hair, almost as though the hair was symbolic of Harry and Ginny's closeness.

"Wait…" Hermione breathed, a look of comprehension dawning on her face. Maybe it could be her hair. Maybe, for a while, she could feel what it would be like to be the girl she envied so much. It would be risky, sure, but if she planned it properly… She had the Polyjuice Potion in her bag. And, with all of Harry's concerns about Ginny's welfare, and what they were doing to him – for the love of Merlin, she could save the world by doing this! It would be stupid not to!

Hermione gave a faint giggle, thrilled yet understandably uneasy about what she had planned.

**AN; Is it obvious where this story's going now? I really hope so, I can edit if it's not. I'm not confident with this chapter as it is, it just seems lacking somehow. Eh. I'll try and update this by Tuesday, because I'm back to school on Thursday so I might not have as much time for writing. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	3. Passion & Potion

**AN; Sorry for the delay, guys! I've been trying to get this done, but man, nobody told me the school workload this year would be so damn huge. But this chapter is a little longer than the last one to compensate, yay! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3 - Passion & Potion**

After a lengthy rummage in her bottomless beaded bag, Hermione found a clear glass vial. She gingerly enclosed Ginny's hair inside it and jammed a cork in the top. Behind her back, her wand was siphoning off the dirt from the remaining clothes by itself. Hermione held the vial up into the air, staring in determination at the hair inside. The moonlight seeped through the glass, causing the hair to sparkle and gleam, as though it really were aflame.

She pocketed the vial, and then loaded her arms with all of the clean laundry, some of which was still damp. Hermione didn't care, though. She couldn't wait to put her plan into action – she knew that the sooner she reignited Harry's passion for his Horcrux hunt, the better. There was no doubt that the deep feeling of excitement had something to do with her anxiousness, though. She bent over and clenched her wand in her teeth, then hurried back to the mouth of the tent.

"All done here," Hermione called to Harry in a muffled voice. Harry was still lying on his mattress, and he yawned something unintelligible to her. Ignoring his response, Hermione dropped the clothes at the foot of the bed, where they landed with a satisfying 'whump' noise. She then rushed into the bathroom – she was too nervous to talk to Harry now that she had planned something that was, despite intents and purposes, sort of sinister. She fastened the canvas curtain shut, and then stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, resting her hands by a shriveled tube of toothpaste and a drinking tumbler. She removed her wand from her jaws and started to think.

"I met Ron and he told me where you were… no, that's too unlikely…" Hermione whispered into the mirror before she shook her head, running a hand through her wind-ravaged hair. If this plan had any hope of working, she needed to come up with a convincing story for why Ginny had just happened to stumbled across the tent where her boyfriend was residing – she same tent that was obscured by defensive enchantments to stop people finding it. Not only that, she also needed to think up an alibi; Hermione disappearing for a while to be replaced by Ginny was already more than suspicious.

"I found you using Sirius' two way mirror… that's ridiculous…" she hissed. All of these stories sounded much better in her head. She pounded her forehead with her palm. Why couldn't she think properly? Every single time inspiration struck, an image of topless Harry would drift through her mind's eye and mist her brain up. She stifled a shriek of frustration, kicking over the empty chamber pot. It made a dull sonorous sound, like a gong.

Hermione turned back to her reflection, glaring at it with contempt as the echo of the brass pot slowly died. Refusing to tear her eyes from the face that she hated at this moment, she rummaged around in her bag, and then yanked out a silver flask. Hermione recognised it as the flask previously owned by Mad-Eye Moody that their stock of Polyjuice potion was kept in. With her other hand, Hermione brought the hair-containing vial out of her pocket. She held the two items up in front of her, staring at them thoughtfully, wishing desperately for inspiration.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud yawn coming from the next room – Harry was starting to fall asleep, as it was gradually nearing midnight. Hermione grimaced. If she didn't figure something out right now, she'd have to wait until tomorrow to carry out her plan. She couldn't afford to waste that much time – though he may be immune to the depredations of time, Voldemort still spent every moment searching, plotting, and murdering.

"Oh, sod it!" Hermione breathed. She unscrewed the lid of the flask and tipped some potion into the tumbler on the sink – not the whole flask, but just enough to give her about an hour as Ginny. Then, she uncorked the vial and tilted it over the liquid, allowing the hair to fall in. After a moment, the potion turned a purple red sort of colour that made Hermione think of Ribena.

All Hermione could hope for now was that Harry would be so over-encumbered with happiness at seeing his beloved that he wouldn't see through her almost disturbingly weak plan.

She swallowed the potion.

The effect was instantaneous. The bitter-yet-sour taste burning in her throat, Hermione buckled over, clinging to the edge of the sink for support. She could feel her straight nose flatten and squash itself to form a button-shape, as her hair straightened itself and stretched down to her hips. She winced as her spine extended, making her a few inches taller. Panting, Hermione managed to pull herself upright, having difficulty with her height.

Her reflection in the mirror had changed, as expected. Her face was paler, and lightly dotted with freckles on her cheeks. Her previously brown tangle of hair had become perfectly straight, and was now a scarlet so bright it seemed to illuminate the air around it. She took a moment to analyse her appearance, turning on the spot to examine certain aspects of her figure. Then, she poked her head through the gap between the canvas veil to spy on Harry.

Discreet snores were issuing from his lips, and his chest was rising and falling slowly. He'd probably only fallen asleep a few minutes ago, not long after Hermione had taken the potion. She sneaked into the room, taking a few steps before stumbling; she managed to stick a foot out to prevent herself slamming straight into Harry's resting form. Hermione had never taken Ginny to be that much taller than her, but now that Hermione was using her body, the difference was obvious.

She observed Harry for a few moments, suddenly lamenting her rash decision. Should this go wrong, she and Harry's friendship would be obliterated. Suddenly she found herself wondering why she didn't go with an imaginative pep-talk to raise Harry's spirits – that would have made more sense. If she and Harry had to part ways afterwards, this would probably diminish whatever hope they had left of defeating Lord Voldemort.

But… she just couldn't resist him. Laying half-naked, making almost noiseless snuffles in his sleep, he was almost… cute. She focused on her options for a moment, her eyes closed and her breathing paced, as though she was meditating. Then, swishing her long red hair and snapping her eyes open, Hermione reached out a hand.

Wait.

She was still wearing the clothes she had on when she talked to Harry earlier. If she spoke to him like this, her cover would be shattered immediately. Taking a cautious and silent step away from Harry's bed, Hermione busied herself finding a change of clothes, picking up a skirt, shirt, cardigan, socks… she didn't reckon Harry would recognize her with them on, as she doubted he could remember every outfit she'd worn in the last four months.

Harry writhed around in bed, his slumber interrupted by the sounds of Hermione changing a few feet away. As she pulled a new shirt over her head, it occurred to Hermione that she still had the locket on. She yanked the chain over her head, carelessly dropping it on a nearby wooden table, and then gave a very noticeable flinch when the locket made an unexpectedly loud clunk against the wood.

"Whuzza-!" grunted Harry, his head springing from his pillow like he had been electrocuted. Glancing around groggily, his hair a mess and his glasses askew, it took him some time to register who was in the room with him, and when he did, his gorgeous green eyes widened considerably. Hermione braced herself for his reaction.

"Ginny? What… what are you…?" he asked, shock etched onto his face. Hermione already knew what she was going to say, though she didn't know where it had come from – it seemed that the words were ready at her lips the moment that Harry had awoken.

"Hermione contacted me and told you how much you missed me," explained Ginny's voice, "so she gave me your location and… gave us a little alone time!" She gave a wink in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner in response to Harry's expression, which was now a blend of shock and suspicion.

"That just seems… but it's so good to know… wow, y-you're alright…" Harry stuttered, apparently finding it difficult to express his feelings about what was going on, and he lowered his head to stare at his feet. Hermione smiled sympathetically, walked over to the bed (taking a little more time than she otherwise would have to avoid tripping over her larger feet) and sat down next to him.

"Harry, you have to continue with this quest, it's too important to give up on now…" Hermione implored, wrapping a hand reassuringly around his wrist. She could feel his pulse pounding, and it seemed to be pounding slightly faster with every moment that passed. Harry's face was still lowered, some of it obscured by his hair… Hermione just wished he would look at her, so she could tell whether her plan was working…

"I'm… just so happy to see you…" Harry whispered. He looked up at her, and he was beaming. It had been so long since Hermione had seen Harry smile so much that she couldn't help but return it. It was so elating to see him like this, she managed not to flinch in surprise when he wound his arm around her and intertwined his fingers with hers. For a few minutes, they just stared into each other's eyes – green into brown, brown into green – beaming in pure ecstasy, progressively winding around each other tighter and tighter. Hermione ended up propped atop Harry's lap, her legs snapped together with one of Harry's hands gently caressing them. One of her hands was wrapped around his waist, and the other was holding his free one. Her head rested on his shoulder, and her chest was pressed firmly against his. She had never felt her heart beat faster.

"Harry…" she breathed, nuzzling his shoulder with her nose, Ginny's elegant sheet of hair softly sweeping her back. He rested his head upon hers, brushing the top of her head with his lips. She raised her head, so that they could once again gaze into each other's eyes. Only this time, Hermione removed her hand from his waist so she could remove his glasses.

The dazzling green seemed to fill her up – there could be nothing but Harry's beautiful eyes, and if there was, it paled in comparison in every possible way. Those eyes, the gorgeous eyes of the boy who lived, the eyes that seemed to be getting closer every second… she felt a pang of disappointment as those eyes closed…

And then Harry and Hermione shared their first kiss.

**AN; This seems like a poor chapter to me, though I've said that for every chapter so far... though what if I'm right this time! Ah well, anyway, I thought I'd let you know, I've been thinking about what to write after this. I reckon it won't be a romance again, and I don't want to do a Medabots fic until I get a little better. We'll soon see. Reviews are always great, constructive criticism is even better! :3**


	4. Confessions & Conscience

**AN; Hey, everyone! Gee, it's been a while since the last update. Sorry about that. I've just had a lot of stuff going on, I'm in my last year of compulsory education, there's a lot of work... you know, the usual. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! Remember to review, but be constructive, always and forever.**

**Chapter 4 - Confessions and Conscience**

Though the seconds that passed gradually evolved into minutes, time was trivial to Hermione now – it was no longer a fact proven by her growing older, but a ludicrous concept that absolutely could not be real. She was convinced that time didn't exist. If time did exist, why would it have halted right now, just because she and Harry's lips were locked together? The only things that could possibly be were the warmth of his breath, the hand caressing her hair, the strength of his hold around her waist…

Hermione gave a squeal of astonishment, breaking the kiss, when Harry tumbled onto his back and pulled her down on top of him. For a moment, they stared into each other, beaming wildly. The sheet of red hair that belonged to Ginny fell down and formed a veil over Harry and Hermione's heads – it was almost like it was concealing them from sight from the rest of the world. The rest of the world no longer mattered to either of them, anyway.

"Ginny… I love you… so, so much…" Harry breathed, coiling an arm around her back and pushing her face closer to his. Though his green eyes vanished behind his eyelids and his lips puckered, Hermione's eyes had become glassy, and she was staring at Harry without really seeing him. The crackling of the nearby jar of bluebell flames and the whistling of the wind outside was drowned out by the echo that only she could hear.

_Ginny… I love you… so, so much…_

A fresh wave of guilt broke over Hermione, and she felt dead weight form in the pit of her stomach. It seemed to have only dawned on her that what she was doing went against… well, everything she knew to be right. Not only was she hoodwinking Harry in order to seduce him, essentially making him seem like a fool, but she was trying to steal him away from the person whom she had come to trust even more than Harry and Ron, and had become the closest thing that she had ever had to a sister – Ginny.

Hermione's conscience continued to chip away at her control over her emotions, and she tore her eyes away from Harry's awaiting lips as a memory drifted into her mind's eye. An image of Ginny, her cheeks colored with a rosy tint, with the edges of her mouth only slightly upturned, while her sheet of beautiful red hair danced elegantly in the wind which was gusting in through the open window. The sense of awkwardness was still fresh in Hermione's mind, even though the event had taken place over three years ago.

_-Scene Change GO-_

"He doesn't seem to know I exist half the time…" Ginny confessed, "I just really want him to like me, you know? It's just… I don't really know what to do…" Hermione gave her friend an encouraging smile at this, though it really hadn't been appropriate given the situation. Ginny was visibly upset by how Harry didn't like her back. She wasn't looking for sympathy – she was looking for advice.

"Well, you're Ron's sister. He's bound to spend a lot more time with you sooner or later," Hermione explained to her, "It's really just a matter of patience."

"Seriously, patience?" Ginny grimaced, "You've seen how he looks at that Cho Chang person. He barely even knows her but he's still… Hermione, if I keep being patient, than I'm going to be waiting forever. 'Cause… to be honest, I think Harry could get any girl he wanted. I mean, he's got the whole 'Boy Who Lived' thing going for him…"

"Well, if you're going to look at it that way…" Hermione responded. Hermione scratched her chin, trying to come up with a plan. She then beamed, and snapped her fingers in inspiration. She'd come up with a plan that she was sure Ginny would still commend her on for years to come. "Ginny, you should start going out with other guys."

The look on Ginny's face was priceless. Her brown eyes opened so wide they bugged out a little, her freckle-dotted blush deepened, her mouth hung open – she looked like a cartoon.

"Hermione, are you seriously suggesting…?"

"Look, you can't spend your whole childhood chasing after one person. These are the best years of your life, Ginny, and you can't waste them like that. And besides…" Hermione's tones became hushed, and she gave her companion a wink, "time apart makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

_-Memory Over-_

Hermione gave an almighty sob, breaking out of her memory, but the inspired and adoring eyes of Ginny still lingering in the back of her mind. Harry made a confused sound underneath her, and placed a comforting hand on her forearm. She snatched it away, swiftly and suddenly, as though Harry's touch had burned her.

"Umm… are you okay?" Harry asked, his tone curious but his voice shaking with concern. Hermione glanced down at Harry, her bottom lip trembling, and she felt an emotion that she had seldom felt when looking at Harry.

Fear.

"Get away from me!" Hermione screeched, leaping off of the bed. She mistimed her landing, as she still hadn't mastered the use of Ginny's frame, and tripped over, slamming against a nearby wooden cabinet. She felt a twinge of pain from the shoulder that had smashed against the wood, but this was drowned out by the fear.

This was the worst thing that she had ever done. How would everyone react? How would Harry react when he found out Hermione had made a fool out of him? How would Ron react, should he ever return? How would the rest of the Weasley family react? She'd been on rough terms with Mrs. Weasley a few years before, and it hadn't been pleasant. Most of all, what about Ginny? Ginny, who had done so much for Hermione…

_-Scene Change GO-_

"Okay, Hermione, I can tell that you're absolutely dying to tell someone. Now tell me; who are you going to the ball with?" Hermione was struck by the feeling of embarrassment that she always felt whenever anyone asked her this. She frowned at Ginny, clasping her hands together behind her back. On one hand, she really didn't want to tell people, because she wanted to avoid publicity. However, Ginny really seemed to have her number; there was another part of her that wanted to tell at least someone, because she was so excited about who her date was.

"… Promise you won't tell anyone?" Hermione asked quietly. Ginny gave a very confident smirk, something that she wouldn't have given anyone a few years ago. Hermione had to admit, she had really grown, not just in body but in confidence too.

"If anyone else finds out, I'll snap my Cleansweep into matchsticks!" Hermione tilted her head to the side, giving the redhead an 'I-know-exactly-what-you're-about-to-say-and-you-are-a-knob-for-it' sort of look.

"I thought you didn't have a broomstick, and that you always steal your brother's brooms?"

"Okay, fine, I'll snap one of their Cleansweeps. Just as long as a Cleansweep gets broken, I'm off the hook, okay?" Ginny grinned. Hermione chuckled – she knew Ginny would say something like that. Hermione took a quick look down both sides of the corridor. There wasn't anyone who would be able to overhear them, so Hermione took a deep breath and bit the bullet.

"Krum." Ginny gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, and Hermione smiled in embarrassment; though, it was the kind of embarrassment you get when someone commends you for getting good marks in an exam. The nice kind.

"Whoa-ho-ho, Hermione, that's way too good to be true! How did it happen?"

"Well… I was in the library, doing some work… and he was in there as well… and then he just sort of came over and asked me…!" Hermione explained, very briefly. She wondered if Ginny would be satisfied with this lackluster anecdote, but she continued to smile ecstatically and then, without warning, pulled Hermione into a hug.

"I'm so happy for you," Ginny said into Hermione's shoulder, her voice muffled against her uniform, "but you know… Ron's probably going to ask you at some point." Hermione considered this. It was true, Ron would probably use Hermione as a last resort option, because they were only friends, but still… she couldn't shake the feeling that Ron would still be upset about her going with Krum, even if she was only a backup.

"Yeah, I know," Hermione replied, nodding into her friends shoulder.

"What're you going to do?" Hermione paused again to consider her answer.

"Whatever happens, happens. And… and he's going to have to learn to deal with that. I'm not going to just be a backup girl for him forever, and… he's going to have to learn to deal with that." She finished lamely, grimacing at how she had repeated the last part. The fact was, it did feel a little cruel to do this sort of thing to Ron.

"Remember, Hermione… time apart makes the heart grow fonder, right?" Ginny reminded her. Hermione's heart seemed to skip a beat. Even after the many months, Ginny could still remember the exact words Hermione had said to her…

Truly, Ginny was a friend like no other.

_-Memory Over-_

"What's going on…?" Harry asked, concerned and scared, as he approached the quivering form of Hermione, his hand stretched out towards her. Hermione shut her eyes tight and violently shook her head. There was no going back from what she had done. She had to escape, just until she turned back into Hermione again, then she could come back… but the guilt would still be there… and the guilt seemed to grow with every approaching step that Harry took.

"Stupefy!" Hermione screeched, whipping her wand out from the elastic in her tights and sending a jet of red light vaguely in Harry's direction. Harry dodged it unnecessarily, as it still would have missed him by a foot had he stood still; Hermione hadn't intended for it to hit him anyway. She just wanted to create a diversion so that she could make a break for it. Following up on this, she sprinted towards the mouth of the tent, and into the darkness outside, the moon and stars overhead the only source of light that could be seen for miles.

Hermione assumed that she mustn't have long left as Ginny – perhaps somewhere between three and five minutes to get to a safe place, then return inconspicuously. In short, it was a completely impossible situation. Hermione felt a bead of sweat trickle down her face in panic, and her eyes darted from left to right, trying to figure out how to lose her pursuer the quickest…

"Hermione."

She had made to run, but she stumbled when she heard this one word spoken from the somewhere at the tent's mouth. The dreaded sense of acceptance settled in Hermione's stomach, vanquishing the sickening guilt. There was no reason to feel guilty anymore. In a few short moments, she was going to get her just desserts. Shivering, she slowly turned to face Harry. He was staring straight at Hermione, his face deadpan and his eyes hidden by the sheen glinting off of his glasses due to the light of the moon.

"How… how did you k-know?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking. Harry took a few steps closer; coming to a stop by the log he had sat on, staring at the Marauders Map, just a few hours ago.

"One, you're wearing the cardigan that you found with my dirty washing earlier," Harry explained, and Hermione's heart sank. She'd just thrown on whatever clean clothes she could find, she hadn't even taken notice of which clothes they were. She didn't even notice that she'd been cleaning that cardigan not long before.

"A-and two…?" she asked. Her voice wouldn't stop shaking. She was sure Harry's wrath would be unlike anything she had ever seen before.

"Ginny wouldn't call what we're on a 'quest'," Harry explained, "I thought the cardigan might be a coincidence, because lots of girls wear the same brand names, but that clinched it. Hermione…"

"I'm really sorry Harry!" Hermione wailed, dropping to her knees. She felt her hair receding, her facial features contorting. Her time was up. "The only reason I did it was to make you happy! You were talking about giving up, you seemed so lost, and… Ginny seemed to be the only thing keeping you going! P-please, j-just… don't hate me!"

She screamed the last words. Harry seemed unfazed. Instead, he took gradual steps, slowly crossing the breach between the two teens. Hermione curled herself up, sobbing, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. Every rustle of the grass was like a chime of her death-clock. Her life would surely be over when the rustling became loudest… and there it was, the final chime… the light of the moon was eclipsed by the form of Harry standing over her. She heard him kneel down.

He smashed his lips into hers.

Hermione stared in astonishment at him for a moment, yet quickly became comfortable and closed her eyes, kissing him back. The wind gave an immense howl, whistling through their ears and tussling with their hair, yet they remained motionless.

The moment seemed far too perfect.

**AN; Yeah, again, not happy with this. This one didn't get a lot of proofreading, I was trying to get it finished today but it's been so darn hot and you know what that's like and I'll shush now. Anyway, this one did have a bit more of the 'Friendship' element, which we haven't seen so much of I guess... let's see how this goes, because next one's going to be the final chapter. And it'll be up soon, because I want to finish a less-than-10,000 word fic in less than a month...**


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